I Believe In Santa Claus, Raphael!
by Leonardo1885
Summary: A holiday/turtle tot fan fiction. When Raphael tells Michelangelo there is no Santa Claus, will it take a miracle to save Christmas for Michelangelo?


**A/N: Happy holidays everyone! I hope everyone has been enjoying the month so far. Sorry this was so late my month has been absolutely insane. I meant to post it much earlier. But I literally have not had time. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday. Merry Christmas!**

* * *

**I believe in Santa Claus, Raphael!**

"He is too real!"

"He is not!"

"Is too!"

"He ain't! He died a long time ago, ya big baby!"

Crash!

Splinter's eyes snapped open, jerked from his meditation at the sound of the argument outside his room. He frowned and grabbed his walking stick and stood up, making his way quickly across the room and opening the door to see his orange banded and red banded sons wrestling. Raphael obviously had the upper hand, trying to pin his younger brother to the floor. But Michelangelo was putting up a good fight, trying to get the upper hand in the fight.

"TAKE IT BACK!"

"Ya need ta grow up ya big… "

"Mou takusan desu! That's Enough!"

Both brothers stopped and looked at the old rat, rich amber eyes and bright blue watery eyes gazed at him.

Michelangelo slid out from underneath Raphael's grip and hurried to Splinter, burying his face in the robe, shoulders shaking with sobs. Splinter's whiskers twitched as he touched the back of his son's head and looked at Raphael with a sharp look.

"What is going on out here?"

"Nuttin' Sensei."

"Raphael."

"He… he said that Santa isn't coming, Sensei." Michelangelo's head tipped back so he could look up at their father, tears spilling into his mask, dampening the material around his eyes. "He said that he's dead. That it didn't matter if I was really good this year. He said I was stupid for believing in him."

Raphael snorted.

Splinter's eyes narrowed and his tail lashed, silencing his red banded son. He stroked the back of Michelangelo's head. His sons were getting older, and he was not surprised that they were starting to grow out of their childish beliefs. He knew that Leonardo and Raphael, who were maturing the fastest, were bound to stop believing in such things much faster than Michelangelo and Donatello, though he knew Donatello who was always looking for the logic in things wasn't far off from no longer believing himself. But unlike Leonardo and Donatello, who would be more willing to spare their youngest brother's feelings Raphael would taunt his brother and ridicule him for still believing.

"Tell him that he's real, Sensei. Tell him that he's coming! And that he's going to put coal in Raphael's stocking because he's such a bully!" Mikey pleaded, his fingers tugging gently on the rat's robe.

Raphael snorted again, unable to stop himself. "Oh please."

"Raphael," Splinter's voice held a snap in it, telling the red banded turtle that he was pushing his luck, and if he didn't stop he'd find himself in the dojo doing flips.

Raphael just shook his head and stalked off, grumbling to himself under his breath.

Splinter sighed as he looked down at his youngest son. Michelangelo's eyes were wide with hope, and complete trust. How could Splinter shatter such hope in a seven year old turtle? The thought of seeing the disappointment in his son's eyes and that little piece of innocence vanish was more than he could handle. He knew his sons were in for a life of hardships just because of who and what they were, it was why he was working so hard to make sure that they could defend themselves. And he just couldn't bring himself to destroy that little piece of innocence so soon. If Michelangelo wished to believe in a man who flew through the sky in a sleigh pulled by reindeer that brought presents to good girls and boys, and mutant turtles, then Splinter was going to let him.

"If you believe he is real, Michelangelo. Do not let others' beliefs influence the way you feel about it," He said gently.

"So… so he is real, sensei?" Michelangelo asked, blinking the last of his tears away sniffing as his fingers tightened on the rat's robes.

Splinter hesitated for a second, he didn't like lying to his sons, but he wasn't going to tell Michelangelo something he didn't believe in for himself. "I have never seen him myself, my son. But there are things beyond our capacity to see or wrap our minds around. I believe that this may be one of those things, and that is why your brother does not believe."

Michelangelo grinned. "Wait until Raphael sees the coal in his stocking! Then he'll know for sure!" His hands wrapped around the rat the best they could as he hugged him and hurried away to go find Leonardo.

_I believe in Santa Claus_

_Like I believe in love_

_I believe in Santa Claus_

_And everything he does_

_There's no question in my mind_

_He does exist_

_Just like love I know he's there_

_Waiting to be missed_

Splinter returned to his room and quietly closed the door, he pulled out the small bag of presents he'd managed to acquire for his sons. A practice sword for Leonardo, a new coloring book for Michelangelo that only had a few of the pages torn out, a toy remote control car for Raphael, and the new book Donatello had been begging for. Though it was rather tired looking and dog eared. Still at least his sons would have something under the small tree he'd brought home for them to decorate.

He carefully hid them out of sight again, ears swiveling back on his head. Such small things so simple and second hand, and yet it was all he could give his sons. He stood back up and headed out to make himself some tea.

Out in the living room all four of his sons were sitting on the tired old couch, watching one of the many Christmas specials that had been playing these last few weeks. Raphael had his arms crossed over his plastron and was scowling a little as a little reindeer took off, seemed to fly for a few seconds before landing, his red nose began to shine and the other reindeer had all drawn sharp breaths of surprise.

Raphael rolled his eyes. But Michelangelo's eyes had gone wide, his jaw dropping a little in horror as the other reindeer had begun to laugh at the little reindeer, causing him to run off. He pressed a little closer to Donatello, who glanced at him a bit surprised but just smiled.

Splinter smiled at his sons, they might not always get along, but he was proud of them, and how close they had become. They had gotten a lot closer after that incident with the toy robot that they had all been fighting over, which had led to them ending up at a toy shop and being discovered by the owner. The owner had been obsessed with the toy and had been determined to do anything so he could own it and had turned some of his machines on his sons. Splinter had gotten there just in time.

It had been only after the giant robot that had been going after him that Splinter had discovered what had caused his sons to put themselves and him in such a horrible position. He knew all too well if they were spotted by the wrong people, that things could go horribly wrong for his little family. His sons seemed to have realized that as well, and as they had studied the special robot toy, they'd discovered that none of them had wanted it anymore, because they had finally realized the importance of their relationships with each other. It didn't mean that they still didn't fight or that they didn't tease each other or get on each other's nerves. That was just a part of being brothers. But when it came to the importance of understanding family, and their need for each other, their bond had grown.

"My sons, it is getting late."

"Aw… but Sensei, the movie isn't over yet… " Michelangelo whined, looking at Splinter pleadingly.

"Michelangelo, it is time for bed." Splinter said firmly.

Michelangelo's face puckered up into a pout but Leonardo nudged him.

"Come on, Mikey, Santa won't come if we're awake."

Michelangelo's eyes had snapped to his brother and then he grinned. "I'm going to put out a snack for him – just in case he gets hungry."

He scurried up from the couch and hurried to the kitchen. Splinter heard the fridge opening and heard the turtle grunt a little as he took the milk down from the top shelf.

"Oh please… its jus' gonna sit out all night an' get warm," Raphael grumbled as he shut off the TV. He stretched and yawned. "Da fat guy is dead."

"Raphael… " Splinter warned.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Night, Sensei," Raphael grumbled as he headed for the room he shared with his brothers.

Leonardo walked over to Splinter and gave him a formal bow, before winding his arms around the rat in a hug. "Night, Sensei."

"Good night, my son."

"Donny! Can you get the cookies?"

Don headed for the kitchen, and a minute later both turtles emerged, Michelangelo walking slowly so as not to spill the cup filled to the brim with milk, his tongue poking from the corner of his mouth, his eye ridges furrowed in concentration. Donatello walked beside him carrying a plate that had a few cookies on it.

Very gingerly Mikey put down the cup, and surprisingly not a single drop sloshed over the side. He grinned proudly as Donatello put the plate down beside the cup.

"There, now if Santa gets hungry this'll be ready for him," Michelangelo beamed. Then he hurried to Splinter and gave him a hug. "I'll bet Santa will bring you something awesome, sensei!"

"I have all I need, my son. I have you and your brothers," Splinter said with a gentle smile. The turtle's hug tightened for a minute before he released him. Donatello replaced him, giving their sensei a tight hug before the two turtle tots hurried off to their room. Splinter heard them talking for just a few minutes before their voices got quieter and finally died as they slowly drifted off to sleep.

Slowly he headed for his room to gather his simple presents he'd gotten for his sons. He gently placed each of them under the tree, each had a tag indicating which son the gifts belonged to. Then turning off the lights, Splinter headed for bed himself. Michelangelo would be up early, enthusiastic about Christmas, he always woke early.

_I believe in Santa Claus_

_But there was a time_

_I thought I had grown too old_

_For such a childish rhyme _

_He became a dream to me_

_Then one Christmas night_

_Someone stood beside my bed_

_With a beard of white_

It was the slightest noise that woke him. But instantly he was alert, nose twitching, ears swiveling, his senses on high alert. And then he heard it again, the slightest shuffling of something moving just outside his room. He paused for a moment, very aware of his sons' movements, their presences. And this didn't feel like any of them.

Instantly he was on his feet, walking stick in his hand, a growl rumbling in his throat, someone was here that didn't belong here and Splinter couldn't allow them to stay, to endanger his family. Silently he opened his door, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room, the only light was the dim candles that were flickering on the tree branches.

Someone was in there alright. A very large round someone dressed all in red, with heavy black boots and a thick black belt around his belly. A big red hat with white trimming was on his head, a white tousle just touching the back of his neck. He had his back turned to him, finishing the last of the cookies that Michelangelo had set out and the glass of milk.

Splinter crouched ready to spring, but at that moment the man turned and held up a finger, still enclosed in a thick leather glove, to his mouth.

"I mean your family no harm, Splinter Sensei." The man's voice was soft and warm, his blue eyes sparkling, his cheeks and nose the color of a cherry.

Splinter's hand tightened on the walking stick, tense, and anxious. His dark eyes darting to the room where his sons were sleeping before snapping back to the stranger. He looked oddly familiar, as if he'd seen him somewhere before. But he couldn't place where.

The man picked up his sack and with a wink pulled out a few lumpy packages, putting them under the tree before turning back to Splinter.

_So you're too old for Santa Claus?_

_He said with a smile_

_Then you're too old for all the things_

_That make a life worth while_

_For what is happiness but dreams?_

_Do they all come true?_

_Look at me and tell me son_

_What is real to you?_

"You are raising four fine boys, Splinter. You all deserve a Merry Christmas." He nodded, putting his finger to the side of his nose, and vanished before Splinter could even react.

Alarmed, and shocked Splinter looked around the whole living room and kitchen before hurrying to his sons' room to make sure they were all safe and secure.

He could hear the sounds of them breathing, all four still sleeping. He shook his head, and quietly shut the door, stunned. Had he just imagined the whole thing? He frowned, he doubted it. But still how could someone just appear and disappear like that? He'd seen many things in his life and the thought that someone else knew they existed and knew how to get to the lair alarmed him. He wouldn't be getting anymore sleep tonight.

* * *

"MASTER SPLINTER!"

Splinter's eyes snapped open, he was sitting in his chair, he hadn't been aware of shutting his eyes but suddenly his lap was full of a beaming Michelangelo.

"LOOK! Santa came! Look what he brought me! I told Raph he was real! Look he is real! And he ate the cookies!"

Splinter blinked. Michelangelo was holding a red hat with white trimming, and a note in tidy cursive writing that Splinter didn't recognize.

_Thanks for believing, Michelangelo. Merry Christmas_

_-Santa_

Michelangelo grinned and put the hat on his head before racing for the tree to join his brothers.

Splinter watched his sons as they ripped open the packaging on presents he knew he hadn't put under the tree. Could it really have been real? And was it because of Michelangelo's belief that the whole thing had come to pass? What were the odds of that happening?

The sounds of delight from his sons at their gifts, exclamations and excitement as well as joy drove the troubling thoughts from his mind. If this man really was Santa Claus, Splinter had a feeling that the man had meant no harm to his family, that he really did just want to give his small family a treat.

Leonardo was delighted with his practice sword and was already swinging it around. Donatello was grinning at the model car he was going to have to put together, Raphael was looking for batteries for his remote control car and Michelangelo, the hat still on his head had picked up the box of new crayons he'd gotten for his coloring book and had begun to color. Splinter sighed and smiled. It was a very Merry Christmas indeed.

_Just believe in Santa Claus_

_Like you believe in love_

_Just believe in Santa Claus_

_And everything he does_

_Wipe that question from your mind_

_Yes, he does exist_

_Just like love I know he's there_

_Waiting to be missed_

_Just like love I know he's there_

_Waiting to be missed_

The End


End file.
